Trix Are For Kids
by AoSora.Minami
Summary: Rukia is the last of her family and the most famous singer in all of Edge, alone in a world of violence and disease. But when she stumbles into drunken trouble, and old friend appears after a long time and rescues her. What more lies in store? SasoRuki
1. Chapter 1

She sat comfortably, back straight, in a classic red barstool. At a bar. With her drinking problem. She liked the taste, the rush, the numbness, that alcohol gave her. That overall thrill of a special liquid high. It all blanked out the sadness she truly felt; overruled the loneliness, the hopelessness. It helped her forget that painful knowledge of being the only one left, the fact that her dearest friend was never coming back…

Long healthy red hair, high-lighted with strawberry blond and orange, flowed down past her shoulders, perfectly straight. And her innocent candy-red eyes were rimmed with a delicate pink.

Her nimble fingers held themselves tightly onto a tall, cylindrical glass. It was half full with a thick tomato-soup like liquid, accompanied by a partially eaten celery stick. A barely visible pink lip imprint decorated a single spot of the glass neatly. This was her fifth drink.

Tingles rushed faintly up her nerves and atop the surface of her skin. Because of her drinking problem. She couldn't think clearly, if she thought at all. Because of her drinking problem. Her eyes situated themselves on the celery stick protruding from her Bloody Mary.

"Miss Rukia, you put up a magnificent show. Why don't you take the money from Mako at the door and go home? You deserve some rest after such an amazing performance," rumbled the sweetly deep voice of the oh-so caring bartender, Tatsu. He was a kind boy. Only about twenty-three. Punk-styled white hair with bloody red tips for every layer. Grey eyes. One of the redheaded girl's close friends.

Rukia smiled stupidly (drinking problem, you fools!), glancing up to gaze momentarily at Tatsu. A small nod on her part and before she knew it, the bartender was right beside her, tugging on the sleeve of her red mini-kimono, dragging her through the crowd of club-hopping patrons up to the burly bouncer that seemed to be keeping Rukia's earnings.

The man wasn't very big, but he compensated for that by being scary. His eyes were a deep scarlet, intense and mysterious. His hair was spiked in certain places, but most of it was perfectly straight and reached the middle of his back. A blue bandage if some kind wrapped itself around his forehead, giving him that Vincent Valentine look. He seemed to be going for it anyway. Mako did indeed also have a very pretty long-barrel gun tucked away in a holster strapped to his leg. And this man was glaring at anyone who passed him by, arms crossed. Signature.

"Hey, Mako! Roo's goin' home. Give her the money so that she can go," Tatsu yelled above the techno-themed music.

Rukia giggled for no apparent reason, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. She was drunk. That much was obvious.

"I see." Mako's seemingly permanent frown remained intact as he stuffed a thick wad of yen in the redhead's white obi. Stepping to the side to let her through, he scrutinized every movement she made. It was out of necessity. He didn't like it when she was drunk.

"Thaaaaaaank you," Rukia said, a bright smile pulling at her lips, still being a mindless zombie. Mako only nodded as he gently nudged her outside. The giant rusty metal door closed behind her, slowly.

She was standing at the mouth of a dark alley, staring down the shadow of the moon illuminating the streets. It was a noiseless night. Even the club music was silent out in the alleys and streets. But she didn't really care.

A drunken grin lifted the corners of her lips. Taking a clumsy step closer to the opening of the alley, she placed her tiny hand on the musty wall of the building she worked at, of which she never paid attention to. She took another stumble toward the street.

Then something heavy and blunt managed to nail her right smack in her frail shoulder. Pain shot through her veins, and a weak shriek followed soon after. Her arm became numb and she couldn't move that appendage. Agonizing pain strangled the order to adjust, jerked her body off track. It hurt. Unbearably so. And it scared her.

"Pretty girl, aren't you?" a husky voice grumbled cruelly, taking a harsh hold on Rukia's long hair and yanking her backwards against the very...smelly newcomer. "So unable to fight back, too, eh? Ha! Lucky me," he laughed roughly, sliding a free hand over her mouth.

Rukia shuddered against the musty scent this stranger gave off. The 'vomit feeling' washed over her, drowning out the drunken state she was in. Another pull on her hair. Fire seemed to tear across her scalp. Explosions danced in her probably dislocated shoulder. Disgust wafted through her nostrils. But fear beat her through and through.

The night was strangely unforgiving tonight.

The man howled with sick laughter, his hands gripping her arms tightly, slamming the fragile girl into the wall opposite the club. And he did that quite harshly. Repeatedly.

Even though her body was certainly suffering from internal bleeding or broken bones, the poor girl refused to let the pain shine through. She couldn't. Otherwise this...icky man would just keep going and going and going. Rukia watched the street shake left and right as she collided with the wall a few more times.

But it stopped. And even though the weakening beating had stopped, she still found herself tumbling into the wall again, scraping down and into a tiny pool of her own blood. She was bleeding...? The man loomed over her, giving her one last disarming punch across the face, and moved his hands to quickly undo his belt and pants.

Little did either of them know that someone else's presence entered the alley at this point. He gave off a frightening, threatening, angry air. But they failed to notice.

"I think that's enough." Cool, superior. Malice hidden by a polite facade. Wait. Is that...?

Bruising pressure equaled gone. But the pain was still there. Visibly. She could feel it. Her eyes were shut tightly, but she could still feel the pain etched on her skin... The broken-ness of her ribs, the dislocated joint of her shoulder, the sharp and deep cut across her cheek, the shattered lump she once called a lion's nose.

Tears trickled from her eyes, soft sobs rolled off her tongue.

"Rukia. Don't cry." That quiet yet forceful silk voice. "Let's go." Just like him to do that. He wasn't much of a helper.

But at least he was back.

Such a cliché. A creep from the shadows, beating a beautiful girl with a drinking problem until she could not even think about fighting back, just so that he could...well, 'do the deed'. And a superior and powerful anti-social hero just so happens to calmly come across this demented scene. He probably murdered the drunken man, and welcomed the girl to come home. So fucking cliché.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sasori-kun!" a sugarcoated voice howled, echoing down the beige and gold colored halls, bouncing off the red tile floors. It was the beautiful, bouncy maid Rukia, happily making her way toward the deep maroon door of her employer's room. Casually dressed in a pair of powder blue skinnies and soft pink wife-beater, hair thrown up into a clean red ponytail, save for her bangs.

She was surprisingly happy, simply bursting at the seams with utter joy. Today was a very good day, one that needed to be celebrated, the redheaded spaz decided, a bright and comfortable smile etched onto that oh-so beautiful face of hers.

Her eyes traced the wood grain lines of her master's door, waiting very patiently for it to open. It was seven-thirty. 'Sasori-kun should be awake by now,' Rukia thought, frowning just slightly. A sigh soon escaped her lips.

It's been exactly one year since the incident in the alley, one year since she met Sasori again after three years. To put it bluntly, it was an anniversary of the first they've seen each other in a while. And Rukia just wanted to celebrate it with her friend.

A thump sounded inside the room.

"Sasori!" she gasped brightly, clapping her hands together as silky footsteps followed after and abruptly stopped. Two thin shadows planted themselves just before the door, his legs. And the handle jiggled pathetically. 'C'mon, Sasori-danna. C'mon!'

The door creaked quietly, slowly opening up to a pale man with messy red hair, the tips dusting his eyelids, adorned only in a pair of red and black striped boxers. A large black scorpion tattoo decorated his shoulder and upper arm, and in thick, dark black was the kanji for 'scorpion' written above his heart. His amber-nectar eyes, half-lidded, smoldered threateningly behind the tips of his flaming auburn hair. Oddly enough, he had a nice little eight-pack going on. And toned arms...

'Snap out of it, Roo!'

With a sheepish yet heart-warming grin, Rukia lifted her arm up and softly poked Sasori in the exact middle of his chest. "Guess what today is?" She flashed him her straight white teeth, gently sweeping the hair from his beautiful eyes.

And in those eyes she saw the slightest hint of confusion. But it was gone as soon as Sasori blinked. He quickly made a tight grab for the petite girl's wrist, attempting to force her to stop jabbing him. It was frustrating.

The action startled her, making her jump up a little. She even flinched.

"Today's what, exactly?" he asked, silk monotone, like he didn't do anything, like the young girl didn't do anything. Sasori stared at her for a minute or two as she thought of an answer, tracing the outline of her perfect face, ignoring the fading scar on her lightly dusted-with-freckles cheek.

It was hard to believe that her nose didn't used to be straight, that her shoulder didn't used to be restricted, that she didn't used to be so jumpy, that she didn't used to be so scared. Harue hated that it had happened to her, of all people. He loathed it intensely.

Just barely over a year ago, before he came back, this poor, beautiful girl started a drinking problem. He hated that too.

"One year ago today, August twenty-fifth, it was the first time we met after three years," the sweet girl explained, glancing to the left, averting the hardened eyes of Sasori. "I just thought we should celebrate... It's like a holiday for me." Her voice was sheepish and begging.

Sasori hated that, also.

'When will she learn that she doesn't have to beg me?' He pulled the door open more, allowing the girl to see all of him, his body language, and his expression. Better just to let her analyze. It's easier for her to understand things if she can see them.

He stood up straight and tall, an arm firmly situated against the doorframe, the other at his side. There was no obvious indication of an emotion, he knew, but Rukia was able to read him like an open book, just as he could her.

"What'd you have in mind?" he asked flatly, eyes still half-lidded and face still blank.

Rukia blinked, sparkling red eyes veering back to the older man. Was he serious? Of course he was. He's always serious. Oddly. She thought for a moment about what to say. "I was thinking that we could make a nice breakfast watch a movie or two...and maybe even have Deidara and Kakuzu come over and..."

"No. It can be just us." Sasori really did hate it when his coworkers entered his house. They always took advantage of Rukia. Except for Deidara and Pein. Those two were like family to the girl. Deidara was like an older brother. Pein was like her dad. Sometimes he wondered if he was anything like that to her. But he instantly flushed it from his mind.

He watched as her face grew bright. He liked that. He didn't quite know why, but he did.

Rukia clapped her hands together again, having been released by her master. And with a sweet smile, she turned, wiggled her hips and stepped into the center of the hallway. "You go ahead and get dressed. I can wait." She threw a glimmering grin over her shoulder at the redheaded man.

But he didn't shut the door like she thought he would. Sasori just...stood there, eying her with those nectar-amber eyes. They were like sweet honey orbs of a hidden emotion that seemed to melt her worries away. Delicious peanut butter cups... She hated that whenever she looked him in the eye she thought of candy.

Still, he stood there, analyzing her. One arm dropped to his side, relaxed after the small tingles of 'sleep' pricked at his veins, whilst the other slowly motioned for her to enter his darkened room.


	3. Chapter 3

She had no idea what just happened.

Just a moment ago, Rukia had been blinking profusely at Sasori, wondering why he appeared to be welcoming her into his room, standing in the doorway. But she was now sitting on his all too comfortable Tempurpedic mattress, barely ruffling the already messy red down comforter, still wondering why he wanted her to come in.

'Maybe he just wants to watch movies and eat breakfast in here,' she thought optimistically, staring at the wall opposite the bed, finding no obvious indication of a TV.

He had a bedroom that matched him almost perfectly. The walls were decorated in layer upon layer of blood red paint, which was really his favorite color. There were a few cherry wood shelves, elegantly carved and oddly very big, strung up about the walls. Sitting lifelessly upon each shelf there were puppets and dolls. Most of his dolls and puppets looked brand spankin' new, with perfect hair and smooth, uncracked faces and all that special jazz. Others had dark, straw-like hair and wooden brown skin. They were battle worn and scarred, battered and broken with those dead stares. The weapon of choice. It was sad, almost, considering that Harue loved each and every one of his puppets. He tinkered with them daily, constantly upgrading and fixing them.

Rukia sighed, a little unnerved, her eyes flicking from shelf to shelf in search of a puppet or doll that wasn't so disturbing.

Sasori had told her to wait here, on his bed, until he had returned with breakfast. It was strange really. In a mere five seconds, she was thrown on his bed and told to wait as he left. Well, maybe why it took him such a short amount of time for those three things to occur is because he was a highly trained killer. An assassin, if you will. So obviously, anything would take him five seconds.

That's the one thing that Rukia didn't like about her favorite puppeteer. The fact Sasori had developed himself into an assassin was a little hard to swallow. It was a sick profession in her mind. Barbaric and simply perverse. But she dealt with it, because that was how Harue made his money and that's what made him happy. She would never object to that, no matter how much she disliked it.

So considerate.

"I wonder what's taking him so long..." she muttered thoughtfully, absently tangling her hands into the already tangled mess of a bedspread. The sixteen-year-old girl wasn't a very patient person. In fact, she completely loathed waiting. There was nothing to do during a waiting period. Plus, the silence was irritating and kinda scary. She wasn't fond of silence...

With the decision made, she kicked off of Sasori's bed and stood up for a moment, dizziness crashing over her momentarily. Maybe she got up too fast... And so began her trek to the kitchen. She stepped around a pair of her friend's shoes, inching closer and closer to the bedroom door. Footsteps sounded nearby, but Rukia ignored it, wrapping her fingers around green and red marble doorknob and opening the door quickly.

Much to her dismay, the man in the red boxers was standing before her, two plates of pancakes in hand. She wanted to go out into the kitchen, make some bacon, and maybe even have a little food fight. Oh well. At least she still got to spend time with him.

"What're you doing?" Sasori questioned, very slightly quirking an eyebrow.

"Um... I was, uh..." the poor teen slurred, trying to find the right words.

He sighed exasperatedly. "Well, it doesn't matter. Move."

Rukia nodded, backing away from the door swiftly. Ah. The middle of the room is where she finally stood, watching Sasori's half-naked and very gorgeous figure waltz over to his bed. Ever muscle in that man's body rippled softly with movement; he set down the two plates, seating himself beside his own. Again, the body. It was like eye candy from hell. The man was somehow that freaking attractive. She gulped quietly, stepping softly over to the king-sized bed.

"What movie did you want to watch?" Sasori asked nonchalantly after taking a bit of his lathered-in-syrup pancakes. To be perfectly honest, he didn't care what movie she chose. He'd watch it. Just as long as it wasn't a stupid romance movie. They annoy the shit out of him. Basically, he felt like everyone in the movies were rubbing all the mushy-gushy romance crap in his face. Another bite before he looked up at the teenaged nervous wreck standing before him.

He had to admit, very reluctantly, that she was an extremely gorgeous girl. Long, healthy candy red hair all thrown up into a cute, messy bun, that figure- that figure. One word: p-e-r-f-e-c-t. And that perfection... wasn't good for him. Sooner or later, he'll begin to think obscenely dirty thoughts about her, and that would inevitably make things get really bad. Before those thoughts could come to mind, he glanced away, turning his attention to his half-eaten plate of food.

"Um... I dunno. How about The Crazies or Avatar? I know how you like horror and movies that make you think," she suggested softly.

Even her damn tone of voice was sexy! Sasori decided that he was, indeed, in desperate need of some heavy-duty anti-psychotics.

"I don't mind either one," he replied slowly, monotone. He tried to think of other things. Like he needed sleep. Oh, how he needed sleep. Over the last couple of days, Sasori hadn't been sleeping very well or for very long. That was probably due to the fact that he's been having nightmares, very violent and creepy ones.

"But you don't have a TV in here." Rukia seemed to have wolfed down her pancakes because her plate was licked clean. Fluorescent frickin' white.

In the end, after his disturbing train of thought, Sasori ultimately regained his composure. Blank and analytical. "Actually, I do. See that button on the wood at the foot of the bed? Press it," he instructed impassively. He watched almost longingly as she searched for the so-called button of his, readying himself to get comfortable in his spot.

Upon finding the light blue-colored button, Rukia pressed down on it and watched in childish awe. The thick wood at the foot of the bed was rising! Sasori had one of those TV-beds she saw on the Internet once. She grinned happily, enjoying the escalating bed-TV display. She even clapped quietly.

I think there's already a movie in the DVD player. You might wanna check that." Master Sasori had himself under his blankets in a comfortable snuggly position. He was, indeed, cold. Now what was the word she wanted to use to describe this as? Oh, yes, adorable.

A soft pink dusted her cheeks, accompanied by a light heat. There seems to be a reserved affection that she holds for Sasori, one that even she cannot recognize. She is Little Miss Naive, you know. With a delicate sigh, Rukia blinked those pretty apple eyes and turned her attention back onto the TV.

The forty-two-inch screen was a dull black, which obviously meant that it wasn't turned on. Her eyebrows furrowed. There weren't any buttons on the sandy brown framing. "H-how do you turn it on?" she garbled, innocently annoyed. "No buttons... Is there a remote?"

A low hiss. "Just forget the movie." Sasori's voice had been muffled and quiet. That wasn't necessarily normal. Rukia whipped around to rest her gaze on his back. The redheaded man had his head hidden under a big fluffy red pillow; one arm lying awkwardly out to the side, and the lower half of his body was covered by the red blankets.

"Sasori~! Lazy bum!" she chuckled sweetly, curling a small chunk of her red hair around a dainty forefinger. In reply, all she got from the man was a tired grunt. His free arm flailed a little, a crap excuse for a wave. "Hm?"

Sasori's hand balled up into a fist and banged down hard on the bed, sinking in instead of bouncing like it normally would on a regular mattress, which made Rukia flinch a little. For some reason, any kind of forceful or violent sudden movement would scare her. In one quick advance, the blood red comforter was thrown off of himself, and his pillows rolled off his head, Sasori arched his back to sit up. He was extremely tired. "Rukia," he snarled, running his fingers through his messy auburn hair.

And, being the frightened little lamb that she was standing in front of the massive lion, Rukia shrieked very quietly and succumbed to the feeling of fear forming in the pit of her stomach. "Y-yes, Sasori-danna?" she questioned, voice high and bubbled.

"Come here." He pointed to the spot next to him on the bed.

"A-alright." Feet stumbled and shuffled quietly around, the volumes differing depending on the distances, slow and afraid. Sasori wondered why. Typical boy… He felt nothing as his friend crawled into bed beside him, hearing the blankets rub together and ruffle.

"Lay down," he continued gently, rubbing one eye to rid it of sleep. Well, that failed. Both eyes remained shut throughout. He could that Rukia did as she was told by the nearly undetectable sound she made. Her breathing was also a little off as she did so. It was almost on his nerves. "Calm down." Why'd he say that if he already knew that she couldn't if she was in an unfamiliar situation? He'll never know.

There was a moment of silence. A very long moment of silence.

"Sasori?" Rukia mumbled shrilly, deciding that the hem of her tank top was suddenly very interesting and she began to pick at it.

He took that as permission to do what he was going to do anyway. Shifting around slowly, Sasori leaned forward to lie down on the young girl's chest and torso, careful to make it comfortable for both himself and Rukia. Resting the side of his head on her breast, he curled one arm under and around her waist and placed the other on her shoulder. Let's say his body fell the way it fell.

"Ah-oh," Rukia exclaimed softly. She wasn't sure of what to do, hesitantly placing a porcelain hand on his head, gently massaging with her fingers. The other decided to rest on the arm he had around her petite body.

It was the perfect cuddle position. And she was the best pillow he's ever had.

She stared at his dozing face, thinking of random thoughts. It seemed like hours before her own eyelids became heavier and heavier until they slid shut. Sleep overcame her, and she was now sleeping with her favorite Puppet Man.


	4. Chapter 4

Midnight moonlight barely escaped the crack in between the dark maroon curtains that hid Sasori's room away from the outside world. Slow, soft breathing was all that could be heard as Rukia began to awaken from her long and comfortable slumber in the heap of sandy brown and blood red blankets on her best friend's bed. An exhausted groan escaped past her lips as she rolled over, only barely noticing the absence of warmth on her torso. Sasori must've gotten up to use the bathroom, she thought, opening her eyes in a squint as she reached over to pull up the blankets.

But wouldn't she have heard him flush the toilet or hear the loud swirl of dirty water exit through the drain? The doorway to his bathroom was only around the corner from the puppet-decorated wall, after all. So where'd he go?

Rukia sighed softly, pulling off the red down comforter with her skinny arms, swinging one slender leg over her side of the bed, the other following after the first. She made a mental note of every move she made as she made them, trying to me more aware. Now standing, she looked around, observing the wall full of puppets, the entrance to the bathroom, the messy bed and its last remaining traces of warmth.

"Sasori-danna, Where are you?" she muttered, her eyes flitting every which way in search of an indication her friend was here. There were none. With an irritated sigh, she headed towards the bathroom, one slow step after the other. The door for the bathroom was located on the left side of both the puppet-wall and the bed.

Rukia was beginning to feel concerned about her Puppet Man. Where was he? He wasn't in his room and most likely not the bathroom. She closed her eyes as she stepped into the bathroom, a hand outstretched and searching for the light-switch. The fluorescent lights created an intense orange in her eyelids until she opened them.

She let out a blood-curdling scream, forcing her lungs to create that terrifying sound.

Sasori was tethered down to a chair tightly with blackened chains and bandages wound around his severely injured, naked body. No gash or broken bond was treated. His skinny, muscled body shuddered and shook as he drew in icy cold, gurgled breaths. Quickly did his chest rise and fall. The ribs encaging his heart and lungs were easily visible through the poor man's skin. He created friction against the black metal chains as he breathed and struggled against them, inevitably causing even more damage to his already broken body.

Red hairs had fallen out and slowly fluttered down to touch the gleaming red surface of a pool of blood encircling and gushing from Sasori's feet and legs, becoming sticky and soon sinking into the deep red pool. His arms were nailed to the wall -which his ever weakening wooden chair was pushed up against- all along his hollow bones. Thin streams of blood spilled and smeared through the hair and his skin from each hole in his arms.

His red mop of messy red hair flowed over his face as he stared down blankly at his deteriorating thighs, nothing distracting him from his pain. It was almost as if no one existed to him.

And yet another blood-curdling scream.

~*~*~*~

"Rukia, Rukia! Stop screaming!" Sasori howled, trying to pin down the wildly thrashing limbs of his dear friend. She was obviously having a nightmare and it must be a pretty horrible one from what he can tell. She was losing her fragile mind. What was scaring her so bad? He noticed tiny droplets of a clear liquid exit through the corners of Rukia's pink-lined eyes. Now she was crying...

Somehow, he managed to slam down her arms against the headboard of his now messy bed, having to straddle her waist to keep her torso under control. He was breathing a bit roughly, which wasn't like him to be doing. The girl beneath him had stopped moving so violently, shaking and crying like a child in her sleep. Her eyes squinted as she cried, the pink seeming to smear with each tear.

Sasori crawled off of her, rolling over to her left side and sat up, leaning forward on his hands and knees to stare down at the poor girl. 'Why are you scared?' he questioned silently, lifting a hand and smoothing out her hair. 'You silly girl.' Another little sniff from her and he gently wiggled his arms under her back and knees, steadily picking her up off the bed as he slid off and onto his feet. He felt her shiver in his grasp, sensing her fear and small drop in body temperature. The look on her scared face made him almost sad.

Rukia nuzzled his chest, wiping her tears on his skin. She was still asleep. He could tell by her slow, shallow breathing. Sasori gave a sigh, trying to chuckle at the cuteness of her actions.

A look towards the door and he began walking, step, step, step, step. The wooden flooring was oddly splintered, he decided, picking up his feet so as not to get a small sliver of wood in his foot. Not that he really cared. He'd get someone to fix up his flooring when he had the time and money to. Unfortunately, the last assassination mission he had gone out on didn't pay him much money. After he worked so hard on assassinating that idiot Turk in Nibelheim and that stupid ninja claiming to be from his home village Konoha in Wutai... Truth is, he didn't really try. At that thought, he smirked, padding out into the hallway with his teenaged girl friend in his arms.

"S-Sasori…" Rukia whispered against his skin. He was taking her somewhere, that much she knew. Her face was wet and her eyes stung. She tenderly wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, feeling him hold her close. 'So it was only just a dream…'

"What is it?" the man replied monotonously. He just kept walking, carrying the girl into a room decorated in traditional Japanese furniture crossed with futuristic technology. Rukia didn't know what to make of it, so she kept her eyes shut.

"Thank goodness you're alive," she mumbled, turning her head to face his, slowly opening up her bright red eyes. She stared deeply into his amber-nectar irises, searching some kind of emotion- amusement, happiness, anger, anything. She found nothing.

"Why would I be dead?" he mused, averting the girl's gaze. Sasori gingerly padded up to a set of cushions and leaned over, gently setting the clingy girl down. He knew she had dreamt of him. That's the only explanation to her question. He held down a small chuckle. He had to keep up his emotionless appearance. Otherwise, Rukia would be royally screwed.

She shook her head, giving a low breath of relief, but still, she held onto Sasori as if she would die without him. She probably would.

Her body language suggested that she was still scared, Sasori decided, letting out a breath of his own before tentatively sitting down beside her. She had her arms tangled around his waist, her face rubbing up against his toned little eight-pack.

"S-Sasori…?" Rukia stuttered shyly, sniffling again as she came to a realization of sorts. There was a certain flutter in her heart, which ultimately shocked her, but she had to address her feelings, her emotions. It was the only way to really get things across and off of her chest. It kept her from fearing things.

"Yes, Rukia?" Sasori asked. It was hard to tell if he was asking a question when his voice was monotone. She knew he kept it that way for a reason, but still. She wanted to be able to see him come out of his shell and not hide himself from everyone else.

Biding some time, Rukia tried to figure out a way to explain how she felt and what she wanted. She thought he'd appreciate what all she had to say if she knew how to say it. Maybe. She didn't quite know how Sasori worked. To some extent, she did. But any further than 'somewhat', she was lost.

Well, so far so good.

"I have something to tell you," Rukia started, fiddling with her fingers as she held him close to her.

"Go ahead and tell me."

"I-I… I want you to be able to tell me anything, even if you might find it embarrassing or weird. I-I want you to be able to come to me for emotional stuff… 'cause… well…" Okay, so she didn't quite know how to tell him. But maybe she was getting through to him. Maybe. She crossed her fingers inwardly.

Sasori blinked once or twice, taking in what the poor redheaded teen was mumbling to him. She wanted him to come out of his shell. That's basically the gist of what she was saying. He could understand. He knew how he must seem to her. Quiet. Monotonous. Powerful. Withdrawn. Distant. Oh, he knew.

"You what?"

She bit her lip and pulled away, jerking her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. How was she going to say this? 'Aw, man… What if he blows it off? What if he stops talking to me? What if…what if he leaves again?' The poor girl was worrying herself to pieces.

"Rukia." There. That powerful tone of voice should snap her out of whatever storm of worry she was putting herself through, he decided.

"S-sorry… Anyways, Sasori-danna…"

He mentally smacked himself a few times. Why did she always call him that? It was bound to get even more infuriating as time goes on. 'Silly girl. Stop calling me that,' he thought.

"Well, I-I… I love you. There, I said it!" He watched blankly as she curled into herself, mulling the words over in his head. She what? He watched distantly as she cried into knees, continuously mulling those words over in her own mind as well. He watched almost sadly now as she shied away from his outstretching hand.

He knew what she was thinking. He now fully understood why she cried every time he would leave her alone. He now understood why she started a drinking problem. He now fully understood her. It took him all of twelve years to figure it out. With a little five second shove, of course.

She sat there, curled up into a ball, and cried till her cheeks grew sore, till her eyes began to burn. And when she started to uncurl herself, Sasori decided to break out of his little shell and full on pull her into his arms for a bear hug. He was going to show her every little cheesy bit of himself because he couldn't stand to see her so sad. Even if he didn't have a heart, he still had a brain. Every thought in his head was mostly angled towards her happiness anyway.

He traced her lower jaw with his fingers, sweeping up any tears that had made their ways down her cheeks, and looked into her candy red eyes for a moment, finding her emotions to be sincere. He tilted her chin up more, and, without difficulty, gave her an honest yet small smile.

His smile… It almost gave her a heart attack. She wanted to kiss him and kiss him hard. She wanted to hug him tight and tell him she loved him multiple times. She had never seen him smile. And just for that simple action, her unspoken wish coming true, she felt yet another tear slide down her cheek.

"Silly girl," he said, "you have no need to cry. I won't leave you alone anymore. I won't reject you. I will show you how I am with feeling. I will not lie to you. I will keep you safe. And… I will love you." With that last sentence, the one he truly felt he would do, he leaned his face closer to hers and gently kissed her soft, pink, surprised lips.


	5. Chapter 5

"Sasori..."

He could hear her soft, sleepy voice bang into his ear like clanging metal, rattling around and smacking his brain, as he slipped his arms into the sleeves of his black cloak. Normally, the gentle sound wouldn't bother him. Not much really did, but at this particular instance, her soft sigh of a voice triggered a harsh headache.

She had been doing that all throughout her most recent of slumbers, this one included, cooing and practically screaming the twenty-six-year-old man's name in a myriad of tones and emotions. The most common of each were high-pitched yet soft, carrying an underlying fear. Her voice was heavy and full of fright, raspy and sad, lonely and rejected.

One thing is for sure, the redhead man noted, Rukia was having a nightmare about him.

For a short moment, Sasori paused in his preparations and sighed inaudibly, taking a small amount of time to flush the thin girl's voice out of his system. He quickly buttoned up his cloak from the bottom up, amber eyes staring down at the sleek wooden floor, viewing the uneven and dark lines marbled into the sand colored wood. He didn't usually take this much time to get ready, but considering his pulsing headache, one would think not to care.

As he finished with buttoning up his cloak, he removed his eyes from the floor, his gaze drifting over and momentarily analyzing each tool, weapon, empty glass vial, and undercover clothing items necessary for his next assignment. Reaching out for one of the weapons - a thin and incredibly sharp blade of a custom blend of steel and silver -, Sasori ran a finger down its edge, checking its assumed sharpness. When a clean and fairly deep, reddening slice grew upon his finger tip, he gave an invisible smirk, blood beginning to seep from the tiny wound.

Setting the small blade down next to the other perfectly laid out sets of weaponry, he searched for and quickly found a napkin hiding underneath a pack of his glass vials, quickly picking it up and cleaning his bloody finger. Not long after that did he find a Band-aid designed for cuts on fingers.

He paused again, hearing his bed sheets and blankets crinkle and twist in a quick movement, hearing knuckles crack softly as small fists clenched and scratched at the fabric. Tearing his eyes from the fresh Band-aid wrapped around his cut, he directed his line of sight at the contorted face of the red-haired girl he allowed to sleep in his bed.

His ears twitched, catching the faint sound of her quiet hitched breathing and creaking floorboards down the hall, slowly getting closer and closer to his doorway. Judging by the sluggish steps and light thumps of the cause of the screaming floorboards, it was most likely Reno. A very stable and sober Reno.

Ignoring the light but shrill intrusive disturbance his visitor was creating, he kept his attention fixed on the girl that tossed and turned uncomfortably in the messy red blankets she clutched in her hands. He watched as her chest rose and fell quickly, her breathing ragged and harsh. Her back arched and she fell onto her side, gasping for air, letting out raspy calls for Sasori.

He blinked, stepping silently and cautiously around the bed to the side the girl was sleeping in, his pace slow and smooth, placing a cold, long-fingered hand on her forehead. Almost immediately, as if on cue, the soft-skinned girl began to breathe normally, relaxing all the muscles throughout her body, fists unfurling.

He gave the tiniest of comprehensible smirks.

"Rukia's been having increased difficulty sleeping, Sasori. You wouldn't leave her alone, would you? You know how bad her nightmares get... Oh, and you never know what dangers lurk around in dark shadows- especially the dangers for pretty girls, yo. You might want to leave her with someone that can keep her safe..." a cocky, familiar voice chuckled from the doorway, worsening the headache Sasori had forgotten.

He looked away from Rukia's sleeping form and straight into the grey eyes of one of Shinra's Turks - Reno - with an intensity only he was capable of. He wasn't too fond of the younger man, what with him being an annoying idiot, a manwhore, and let's not forget that he's a sarcastic prick. He was even worse than Deidara and Tobi (Madara, Tobi, whatever the fuck that idiot's name was) combined. Well, to Sasori.

"She's perfectly capable of defending herself-"

"She sure put up a fantastic fucking fight in that alleyway a year ago, yo," Reno countered, the muscles in his mouth area contorting into a crooked smirk, thinking for some bold reason he had the older man beat.

"I don't want you in my house with a minor." Sasori looked down at Rukia as he pulled his hand off of her forehead, reaching over her to pull the blanket up to her chest. "I know you want to stay here, so you'll give every possible excuse to do so."

The younger male gulped, paling just slightly. "You're turning this into-"

"But Rukia," Sasori continued, brushing a lock of hair out of said girl's closed eyes, "can take care of herself just as well as I can. After all, she grew up learning from many. Me, Vincent, Tseng, Itachi, Deidara, and Pein, just to name a few. Undoubtedly, she could beat you to a bloody pulp if the situation called for it."

Reno gave a frustrated huff, glaring maliciously and callously at Sasori. He opened his mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by a soft but high-pitched squeak from Rukia. He sighed.

"Sasori, as hot as Rukia is, I don't do kids, yo. Besides, Boss-man heard about her upcoming concert and I got guard duty. Orders from Rufus. So, uh, chill," Reno chirped slyly.

The older man gave no sign of acknowledging or even hearing what Reno had said. Sasori was only slightly amazed by the fact Reno could switch his moods from cocky to serious, angry to happy. And the kid did it horribly fast. It was a little aggravating.

"Your expression earlier said otherwise. Whatever the case, you are not permitted inside my house. Is that clear?" Sasori spat flatly, his gaze veering from Rukia's sleeping face and back onto Reno's simple, cocky one.

"Ugh, whatever, yo. It's not like I even wanna be here," the younger redhead muttered, turning around and taking a slow step out into the hall.

"Why are you really on guard duty, Reno?" Sasori mused, pulling away from the now peacefully sleeping girl in his bed, working his way over to the table cluttered in an organized fashion with all of his equipment.

The younger redhead paused in the hallway, letting out a slow breath. He turned around, once again facing the puppet-like older man, the question mulling over in his brain. "Shinra said he sensed some form of danger was going to befall her and she'd possible get killed and blah blah blah, yo. I dunno. To be honest, I think he has a crush on Lady Roo."

He scoffed. "Lady Roo?" ••••"That's what he said, yo. He might also just want her to enlist in the Turks. We've all seen her skills. Better than Cloud himself, yo."

Sasori gave a slight frown, slowly packing up all the vials and weapons and various other articles of cleaning supplies, the incessant overuse of the word 'yo' and pretty much everything else Reno said grated on his nerves.

He wasn't surprised though. Who wouldn't have a crush on her? Rukia was a beautiful girl, even he couldn't deny it. Not only that, but she was famous and pretty much good at everything. Her one problem: she had slightly below-average intelligence in most subjects. But if it was something like assassination, materia, or, say, singing and cooking, well, let's just say you're fucked.


End file.
